


From the Abyss

by Fairfaxleasee



Series: Fenris/Cassia [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Autism Spectrum, Cutting, Dissociation, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 19:06:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30127434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairfaxleasee/pseuds/Fairfaxleasee
Summary: Three years after he walked out on her, Cassia Hawke finally has a chance to talk to Fenris again.  If she can take it.
Relationships: Fenris/Female Hawke (Dragon Age), Fenris/Hawke (Dragon Age)
Series: Fenris/Cassia [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141970
Kudos: 5





	From the Abyss

**Author's Note:**

> Find me (and prompt me) on Tumblr fairfaxleasee.tumblr.com
> 
> Thanks to @kosho, @blondetexan, and @xqueen0fhellx for betaing!

Cassia Hawke stood looking at the stones in front of the door to Fenris’ manor. This was the second time that day she’d been in the exact same spot doing the exact same thing. It was strange, before today, she hadn’t been at the manor in years. And when she used to visit regularly, she didn’t hesitate until she was inside the manor.

_ You shouldn’t be here; you shouldn’t have been here last time; he doesn’t want you; he’s better off without you; no one wants you; THEY’RE ALL BETTER OFF WITHOUT YOU. _

Cass closed her eyes and flinched against the voice as its warning admonishment echoed in her head in an endless loop. She tried to remember what had happened earlier that day to bring her to this point.

There wasn’t much - just flashes of isolated events that didn’t seem to connect to each other. She wasn’t surprised, she’d been drifting in and out all day. All day, who was she even trying to kid - she’d been sliding between numb, rote motions to pantomime enough life to keep people (mostly) off her back and the abyss of pain her mind made sure was just  _ waiting _ for her since the pathetic spectacle she’d made of herself trying to play Wicked Grace at the Hanged Man… how many days ago? Fuck, she’d spent most of the time she could remember in the abyss since not long after she’d last set foot in the manor without tearing herself apart for daring to approach it.

But for the second time that day, Fenris had  _ asked _ her to come. The note he’d sent, she thought that morning, and the whispered request at the Hanged Man were the only words she’d had from him since he’d obviously thought better of… whatever it was they’d had. Could have had? What she,  _ unforgivable, worthless idiot _ that she was still wanted. (Not counting, of course, the night her mother died or after her quite literally, Anders, laughable attempt at cards where her mind, always able to keep her torture fresh to make sure it wouldn’t get boring, tried to convince her he’d actually come for her just to make knowing he hadn’t that much worse.)

She was fairly confident, just for lack of any other reasonable explanation, that whatever he’d called her there that morning about had something to do with why she remembered meeting Danarius at the Hanged Man… some time that was after she’d been to Fenris’ earlier and before now.

She was also fairly confident that that meeting didn’t turn out the way Danarius expected it to. He’d kept talking at her about Fenris for some reason (which was odd - when she asked, Varric had assured her that Fenris had, in fact, been standing right there and entirely capable of speaking for himself, so she didn’t know why Danarius had wanted  _ she _ should be the one answering his questions). And then something had happened and a lot of people, including Danarius, ended up dead. Part of her thought it was a bad sign that she could have a memory of standing in the middle of a pile of corpses and not have any real idea how that happened or emotional reaction to it, but she’d been in the middle of a lot of piles of corpses and they all traced back to arrogant and/or stupid. And about the only emotion she felt anymore was hurt.

Of course just because hurt was all she felt anymore didn’t mean it was at a consistent level; there were still things that could twist the proverbial knives in her psyche - and that was what had happened after… something else with the woman Fenris had wanted to meet at the bar. Cass had no particular association with the woman, so she was probably a relative? Also she recalled Fenris being angry with her the last time Cass remembered seeing her. Varric had said something? 

That wasn’t what had hurt though. What had hurt was after the woman was gone was Fenris saying he was alone.  _ That _ hadn’t been fair -  _ he _ was the one who had left  _ her _ , and hadn’t spoken to her in  _ three fucking years _ , and when he finally  _ did _ it was to ask her a  _ favor _ , and - she remembered the flash of anger that had burned away the pain for a split second when she’d found out what the note was about, she’d wanted to  _ strangle _ the man and his audicity; but it had gone as quickly as it had come, as soon as she remembered that the only one she ever had any right to be mad at about anything she was involved in was herself - and like the  _ unforgivable fool _ she was, she’d done the favor (even if it had been at the scene of her greatest recent humiliation that she detested outside of that), and given that Danarius was dead and Fenris wasn’t, she doubted there was a reasonable argument that could be made that Fenris had been worse off for her involvement. So when he’d said he was alone, she just couldn’t keep quiet anymore. She’d reminded him she was there, or had she just been reminding herself; either way he… must have heard it because he had asked her to meet him here. She touched a hand to her cheek. Why would she be doing that?

The voice cut her off before she’d even begun to look for the answer in the shattered fragments of her memory.  _ How fucking stupid are you? Have you  _ really _ not figured it out yet? Why he’s so insistent that he’s alone? _

Cass tried to turn away, even knowing the token resistance was futile. She knew what the voice was going to say - she knew because it was her voice, even if it was amplified and echoed by some of her other tormentors (them being dead wasn’t shutting them up the way she’d hoped it would).  _ He’s alone because he  _ wants to be _. Because you’re so broken and pathetic that the absence of everyone is infinitely preferable to the presence of you. You could do it, you know? Give him what he wants - give  _ everyone _ what they want. Even  _ you _ want it, it’s the only way to end this pathetic masquerade that you call your life, if you could finally work up the guts to actually DO IT instead of just putting on another one of your little shows for attention - any one of your knives would work, just reach into any one of your pockets, pull one out, and - _

“Cass?”

Cass started. If she had been holding a knife she dropped it. She caught a sense of movement and flinched away from it.

“...alright? How… out here… didn’t mean… you waiting. ...come inside… talk.”

She had no idea who was even talking to her. She could barely hear the words through the dull, metallic throbbing in her head. She thought the name should probably be a clue - no one called her Cass anymore. Someone used to though…

The next thing she was aware of was a loud ‘pop.’ The source, at least, was easy to figure out - it must have come from the fire. Although what she was doing in a room with a fire, curled up on a chair or sofa, wasn’t as easy. She remembered being outside, although this was far from the first time she’d wandered back to her estate from outside and had no recollection whatsoever of just how that had happened. But this… this wasn’t her estate. The colors weren’t right and the upholstery of whatever she was sitting on was rough enough to prick her skin through the cotton of her shirt.

“Cass?”

She shifted her gaze and saw Fenris kneeling beside whatever she was lying on. She held his gaze for a moment, eyes wide with shock, before hers scarpered to focus on one of the corners.

“Cass, can you hear me?”

_ Why is this so familiar _ ?

But she couldn’t track down the sense of deja vu and respond, so she decided to focus on forcing herself to jerk her head in a quick nod.

“Are you hurt? I didn’t think you got hit earlier, but I admit I wasn’t at my best. I’m no healer, but -”

She shook her head quickly. That was probably strictly speaking a lie, but she wasn’t hurt the way she decided to interpret Fenris’ question. None of the people dead in the Hanged Man had touched her. Or at least she didn’t think they had.

“Cass, are you - will you - do you feel up to talking?”

She bit her lower lip. She knew full well that she was not  _ remotely _ up to talking, it was physically impossible for the moment and how long that state would continue for her was anyone’s guess; even aside from that, she couldn’t remember the last time she was actually up to talking. But this was the first time Fenris had even  _ offered _ to talk in more time than she was capable of comprehending in her current state. She couldn’t even stomach the  _ thought _ of missing what could well be the only chance she’d have at this, but… she didn’t have anything left. There was no way she’d be able to make any sort of  _ attempt _ at being the way she was supposed to be. What she never had been. What she was never, ever going to be able to be. Normal.

She buried her face in her hands and heaved silent sobs while crying in defeat.

It was too late - her chance had come too late. Or had she just never even had it to begin with.

It wasn't like she deserved it.

She felt a touch on her shoulder and flinched away from it on instinct. Then everything fell away again.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Fenris ran a hand down his face. He should have  _ known _ better than to touch Cass; he’d seen just how frayed she’d been, and he was fully aware of how she felt about people touching her even when she wasn’t.

He just hadn’t known what else to do. He  _ hated _ seeing her like this - so much so he’d been too cowardly to admit just how bad he’d let things get for her. He just wanted to do something that would let her know that he was here for her.  _ Finally _ . Where he was almost positive she still wanted him. Where he would swear to spend the rest of his life if she would only ask him to.

He heard his door slam open and snapped his head at the noise.

“FENRIS! YOU GET OUT HERE  _ THIS INSTANT _ !”

Fenris winced at Aveline’s volume. He glanced at Cass but she’d shown no reaction at all to the noise. Which concerned him even more than her tears had done.

“I  _ WARNED _ YOU, ELF!” Aveline’s voice was getting closer. “I TOLD YOU TO  _ MAN THE FUCK UP _ AND MAKE A CLEAN BREAK WITH HAWKE SO SHE COULD  _ FINALLY _ MOVE ON OR I’D THROW EVERY BOOK IN MY OFFICE AT YOU!” She appeared in the doorway somehow even angrier than Fenris had thought she’d be. She pointed directly at his chest and began marching towards him, “But do you LISTEN?  _ NO _ ! Instead you go and DRAG HER into your PERSONAL AFFAIRS AND NOW SHE’S MISSING, AND-”

Fenris glanced at Cass curled up into a ball on the couch. He wasn’t sure whether he’d done it to check that she still wasn’t reacting to the shouting or just make sure she was actually there.

He had definitely not done it to shift Aveline’s focus to Cass, but that didn’t change the fact that’s what ended up happening. “Hawke, come with me. I’m taking you to see Anders, then we’re going back to your estate.” Aveline grabbed Cass’ arm and  _ again _ Cass had no reaction to it.

“Stop it, Aveline! She’s fine-”

“Oh, she’s fine, is she Fenris?” Aveline adjusted her grip on Cass’ arm so she could shove her sleeve up to her shoulder to reveal a limb covered in angry, red gashes, and while none of them were close to being healed, none of them were fresh enough to have been caused by the fight in the Hanged Man. Fenris flinched away from even more evidence he hadn’t been able to look close enough to see. Aveline ignored that and continued, “Does this look ‘fine’ to you, Fenris?” She let go of Cass and crossed to Fenris, “You know she won’t even  _ see _ a healer anymore? Orana has to wait until she’s too injured to fight it and sneak Anders into the estate!”

Fenris narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like the idea of Anders seeing Cass when she was like this any more than he suspected she would if she knew about it. But right now he needed Aveline gone and arguing about the mage would just make her dig her heels in. He wasn’t going to let anything make him miss his chance to talk to Cass. He just hoped he hadn’t already missed it. 

But having a shouting match with the Guard Captain right in front of Cass was likely to do more harm than good. He looked back at Cass one more time just to make sure she didn’t seem to be any worse. He pointed to the door Aveline had burst through. Her gaze followed his finger. She narrowed her eyes and looked between Fenris and Cass a few times before nodding in a manner that communicated just how reluctant she was to do it.

Fenris waited until they were in the hallway before continuing the conversation, if something carried out at the volume they were using could even be called that. “I have it under control, Aveline.”

“Oh,  _ do _ you?” sarcasm dripped from the Guard Captain’s words.

“Well, you certainly don’t!” Fenris shot back.

Aveline clenched a fist, then swallowed and held up a finger in his face, “This is your  _ last _ chance, Fenris-”

“I’M WELL AWARE OF THAT!” He had a passing thought that Aveline had meant it as a threat, not a statement, but he didn’t care a fig for the threat. The statement terrified him.

“She needs a healer, and she needs to get back to her estate.”

“I  _ know _ she needs a healer, but I’m not going to drag her to one if she doesn’t agree to it!”

“She can’t make her own decisions, Fenris!”

“She  _ can _ and you treating her like a puppet isn’t helping anything!”

“Well, you would  _ certainly _ know a thing or two about not helping!”

“I don’t owe you an explanation, Aveline!”

“She’s my friend, Fenris-”

“AND SHE’S THE WOMAN I LOVE, AVELINE! And I don’t-” he ran a hand down his face and tried to get control of his breathing, “I don’t want to do anything else that could hurt her. I’m trying to fix this; there  _ has _ to be a way for me to fix this.”

“...I hope you’re right, Fenris.” He bristled at the implications and she watched him squirm for a few seconds before continuing, “You’re in charge of her. If she doesn’t make it back to her estate - if anything happens; I’m holding you responsible. I’m coming back here, and I’m bringing you in.”

“If anything happens…” Fenris paused as the weight of the implication swept over him, “You won’t have to. I’ll turn myself in.”

“Good. I’m glad you finally understand just how serious this is.”

Fenris resisted the temptation to respond to that. It was completely unnecessary, but not at all unwarranted.

Aveline turned and left the manor. He made sure she was gone before turning himself to wait for Cass.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Cass wasn’t sure if she was more aware of the anger from the hallway or the discomfort from the upholstery. She was sure she didn’t like either of them, but doubted she’d be able to make her legs work enough to get away from them. She tried to look around for something she could use to at least hide. Sometimes just having a barrier between herself and everything that assaulted her nerves provided just a bit of relief.

She saw what looked like a cloak under the table. It looked like wool, and she didn't like wool, but it also looked like she could reach it without moving too much and she liked that more than she disliked wool. She reached out and was just able to grasp the item between her fingers and pull it towards her. She was pleasantly surprised that whatever it was wasn’t wool - she knew there was a word for what it was, but that was too much effort to find. She could figure it out once she felt better. She pulled the cloak around herself as tightly as she could then spun around on the couch to face it rather than the room.

Eventually the voices stopped, she didn’t think it took long, but she wasn’t sure how accurate her sense of time was, and she heard someone walk back into the room.

“Cass?”

She curled tighter around herself at Fenris’ voice. She remembered now - he had wanted to talk,  _ finally _ , but she  _ just couldn’t _ . She  _ still couldn’t _ .

“Cass, it’s...” he sighed, “Do you want to go home? I can take you back if you want-”

She shook her upper body at that - she didn’t want to  _ go _ anywhere; she didn’t want to  _ be _ anywhere. She had only meant to shake her head, but it hadn’t wanted to cooperate in the movement, so she’d had to overcompensate. And while it seemed that Fenris had at least understood what she’d wanted to communicate, the stupid cloak had come loose and she was having trouble pulling it back around.

“Do you want me to take that off?”

She tugged the cloak tighter in response. She thought it might be ripping but she couldn’t stand the thought of Fenris taking it away, even if it probably was his.

“Okay, I want to help you, Cass-”

She froze at that. Fenris… wanted to  _ help  _ her? No one wanted to  _ help  _ her. They wanted to fix her, make her right, ensure she’d be able to pass for ‘normal human being’ if anyone looked closely, but it was always  _ their _ way. For them. Make her be less generally inconvenient.

...that was probably what Fenris had meant. She was just reading too much into things again. Yet another thing she did that was  _ why _ no one wanted to help her.

She leaned into the sofa. But… it wasn’t the sofa. It was too warm to be the sofa. It was also much more comfortable than the sofa. She tried to move her hand to figure out what it was, but she realized that something was wrapped across her chest.

“Cass?”

She heard Fenris’ voice from somewhere above her. She knew she shouldn’t, but she relaxed her head against his chest. “...mm.” It didn’t really count as a response, but it was all she was capable of.

“I’m sorry, I know you don’t like people touching you, but you seemed more relaxed when I was holding your cloak on so I just… kept doing it. Should I let go?”

“...no.” Cass barely heard herself, but Fenris must have heard her. She felt him shake beneath her and a few drops of something wet fall on her forehead and roll down her face. He shifted her in his arms so he could gently stroke her hair.

“Oh, Cassia! Thank the Maker you’re back! I was so scared I’d lost you.”

“...why?” She realized she was hardly holding up her end of the conversation, but it was the best she could do.

“Because, Cass; Nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you.”

“...better… without me.”

“Never.”

“...leave?”

He stopped stroking her hair. “Are you sure you want to talk about that right now, Cass?”

“ _ Need _ .”

He sighed. The hand that had been stroking her hair wrapped around her again. “You’re right. And you deserve to hear it.” He sighed again, “I left because I was a fool. And a coward. And I have regretted it  _ every single second _ since.”

“Wait though?”

“Because I didn’t understand, Cass. I didn’t think it was possible to hurt you the way I did. And I am so indescribably sorry that I let that keep me away, even when I could see you needed help.”

“I  _ shouldn’t _ .”

“Cass, you help everyone; you’re allowed to need help too.”

“No...it’s...I’m-” Her breathing was getting erratic, she was starting to slip again. She needed to hold on just a  _ little bit longer _ .

“It’s okay, Cass. Take all the time you need. I’m ready to listen when you can tell me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut to try to keep the tears in and was completely unsuccessful. He held her as he whispered, “It’s okay, Cass. I’m here.”

She wasn’t sure how long it took her to be able to say anything again, “It’s too much, Fenris. I ask for too much.”

“You don’t, Cass.” 

“No! It’s… I don’t want you to have to see me like this. Or  _ deal _ with me like this.  _ I don’t want to have to be like this _ !”

“I know you don’t, Cass.” He was stroking her hair again. “But do you want me to be here - with you, for you?” He held her tighter, “ _ Can you let me try and help _ ?  _ Please _ ?”

“I shouldn’t  _ need _ it!”

“But you  _ do _ , Cass. And I’m sorry it took me so long to realize, but it doesn’t change things -  _ I still love you, Cassia _ !”

“...why? I’m  _ broken _ , Fenris. I-I’m not even broken, I’m just  _ wrong _ . I’m  _ never _ going to be right, I’m  _ never _ going to be okay. I’m always going to be  _ this _ .”

“I  _ know, _ Cass. I understand. But I swear on  _ everything _ that matters, Cassia: You are not broken or wrong to me. And you have no  _ idea _ how sorry I am that you had to suffer this much for me to realize it.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Fenris; you didn’t -”

“I  _ did _ , Cass. Maybe not all of it, but  _ far _ too much of it. I’m the one who left, even though you begged me to stay; I’m the one who stayed away, even though I knew you didn’t want me to; I’m the one who was too afraid of your pain, even though I caused it; I’m the one who spent years not looking hard enough to understand you, even though I couldn’t look away from you. And I am so,  _ so _ sorry for  _ all of it _ .”

Cass turned in his arms and rested her head on his shoulder, “I don’t want you to be sorry, Fenris.”

“I know, Cass. But I still am.”

“You don’t need to be. It’s my fault-”

“It’s  _ not _ your fault, Cass. It’s never been your fault.”

She didn’t have a response to that. She really didn’t have energy for anything anymore. But that was fine. She was fine. And for the first time since… possibly ever, she wasn’t fine because she was too beaten to put up a fight anymore. She was fine because someone was  _ finally _ really with her. She’d been so alone, for so long; and so many people, including her, had been so convinced that was always how she’d be - that it was how she was meant to be, and deserved to be.

“I - I’m tired. Can I go to sleep now?”

“Of course. We can talk more -”

As far as Cass was concerned there was nothing else worth talking about on this subject. She tugged at what she thought was his elbow through the cloak.

“Alright.” He began stroking her hair again, “But you can change your mind any time.”

“Mm…” she murmured a protest into his shirt.

“Okay. Do you want me to take you back to your estate?”

That was far too far away, Cass could barely keep her eyes open anymore. She tugged harder at his elbow and let herself go limp against him. 

“Whatever you need, Cass; ask, and it shall be done.”

“...don’t let go.”

He held her tighter, “I will never let you go again, Cassia.”


End file.
